


Forever.

by pctter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27924007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pctter/pseuds/pctter
Summary: I miss him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANOTHER PLATFORM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

I miss him.

It just isn’t the same without him. His presence. Yes, he didn’t contribute that much, but without him Harry and I just sit here, never talking. Granted, I cry most nights.

I miss him.

I miss those late nights in the common room where we just curled up in front of the fire together, after Harry went to sleep.  
We’d stay up doing homework, finally giving up after midnight. Neither of us ever wanted to go to sleep, me because I love spending every second I can with him, his reasons I don’t know.  
He’d grab a blanket and wave me over, and we’d sit in comfortable silence, watching the fire burn the logs until they are but ash.

I miss him.

The sun always shone on his bright red hair, making it look like a fire.  
His freckles form new constellations on his face, they’re like stars, and when he laughs, he scrunches his nose, and I fall for him more.  
When he’s studying or trying to comprehend a homework question, he looks so serious, and I can’t help but steal a glance or two at him. My poor heart races a mile a minute at his mused hair, his hand scribbling words quickly as he tries to get his thoughts down, biting his lip as he writes.

I miss him.

He’s willing to do anything for anyone he cares about. He sacrificed himself for chess in our first year, after all. He stood on a broken leg, willing to die at the hands of Sirius Black for Harry. He loves Harry, he’s ready to die for him. He’s proven that time and time again.  
I just love it, his loyalty.

I miss him.

That one night in Grimmauld Place, the night we fell asleep holding hands, we’d been talking about what may happen be in our futures. Would we survive? Would we get to see our families again? Would Harry live?  
He could probably see the doubt on my face as we talked about all this, because when I finally started to doze off, he took my hand and said, “it’s okay. We’ll all live, we’re gonna be together, we’ve got to believe it.”

I miss him.

I didn’t think I could love someone so early in life, but that summer night before our sixth year made me realize. We were just talking outside, talking about random things, when the conversation turned to feelings.  
“D’you fancy anyone?” He played with the grass next to him mindlessly, looking at me.  
The question was so simple, it required a simple yes or no, and I was about to answer, but something caught me.  
Well, obviously I’d fancied him since our second year, simple, but thinking about it made me realize it was more than just fancying.  
“I’m not sure.”  
If I’d replied differently, would anything change?

I missed him.

He came back. Of course, I was happy, ecstatic, jumping with joy to see the redhead.  
And yet I lashed out at him.  
I had my reasons. He’d left in a moment of selfish thoughts. He’d left in a moment of jealousy, and he was probably lording away at the Burrow while Harry and I sat here in dead cold, freezing our noses off.

I don’t miss him.

Because that moment when he mentioned we should free the elves, I knew.  
So of course, I had to be the rational one and jump into his arms, kissing him.  
Stupid decision? Probably, until he started kissing me back. Poor Harry had to stand by and yell at us. I get where he was coming from. We could die any second, and we’re snogging?

I never miss him anymore.

I can curl up next to him every night, fall into a comfortable sleep as he brushes my bangs from my face.  
Every morning I can kiss his nose before getting out of bed.  
Every afternoon I can hug him and rest my head on his chest.  
The night after he proposes, as we fall asleep, I whisper, “forever?”  
“Forever.” He goes silent but adds, almost as an afterthought, “Well not forever, of course.”  
I chuckle.  
Classic Ron Weasley.  
“Of course. But if we could live-?”  
“Then I’d stay with you.”  
I definitely made the right decision.


End file.
